Eon felt a shudder of revulsion claw it's way up his spine as he landed in the corpses lap with a sound that he did not want to think to hard on the provenance of. He was no stranger to dead things, but sitting on top of them was not something he could claim any degree of comfort with.
Feeling the corpse jolt underneath him, he closes his eyes in resignation
"Of course, you wouldn't be as dead as you appeared. Of. Fucking. Course."
Pushing off from the wall, he nimbly takes his feet, drawing his rapier at the same time. Looking down on his opponent he feels a sneer of disgust creeping across his face.
"Ugh. I can't tell whether being left to rot for a week made you better or worse looking. Either way." he shudders dramatically, the corpse reeling under the force of his magically bolstered disdain.
"Come on! They're only corpses. They've already died once. Just gotta make it stick this time! Come on Shayuri, talk about frying fish in the barrel!" the surprise at the sudden animations gives way under the force of his exhortation, his sheer belief in the parties capabilities bolstering resolve, and spurring them on.
The room, being lit only by Shayuri's glowing rock, gave the undead an aura of menace. The strong light cast harsh shadows on them, further exaggerating their decaying forms. Nearly within reach of Eon, Delgath stood, sword in his hands, wringing the grip like it were some poor fool's neck.
"Where were fancy senses Holy Man!?" Dread said, enraged.
He grunted and took a step towards where one of the zombies was already lurching towards Arturs who was quickly running out of room to back into the wall, and barely sidestepped the grasping hands of another as he stepped away.
Normally he wouldn't have struck an enemy from behind, but these were mindless and in his mind were not, to a Delgath's standards, worth a true warrior's time. He plunged his sword into the shambler's back to get its attention. It felt no pain and simply continued trying to move forward. It was obvious to him that that tactic wasn't going to work so he went with something less tactful. He withdrew his sword swiftly and chopped down hard upon the undead. The cut deep into its shoulder spraying blood and viscera in Artus direction, though most of it splattered the wall behind him as he lay on the floor.
On the other side of the room from Deltha, Rhosh glances around the room quickly noting where his closest allies are beginning to face the rising corpses. As the body between him and the door struggles to its feet, the dragonborn jabs a dagger into the withered shoulder and takes a step back to avoid any recoil. As his feet find their starting position, he hears another corpse behind him, hoping that it would be kept occupied rather than attacking his flank...
As Delgath moved away, Shayuri realized that there was one place she definitely didn't want to be, and that was isolated. While the zombie between her and the south wall was busy trying to club him, she took advantage of the opening to move over to where Eon and Rhosh and Krusk were bunched up, hoping for some safety in numbers.
She then incanted words in Draconic and a flame appeared in her hand. She held that strange bright fire up in front of her face, inhaled deeply, and blew outward with all of her lungs. Magic snapped and snarled, and as her exhalation hit the flame in her hand it exploded outward into a roiling mass of flame that bathed over the zombies south of her!
The gout of flame washed over the undead, searing their flesh toff the bone in places and catching clothes aflame, which added the smell of burning flesh to the room, causing everybody's stomachs to churn as the smell reached each of them. The undead were not fazed though, no longer feeling pain left them undeterred.
Across the room though, Arturs scrambled to his feet and backed against the gore-splattered wall as his hands fumbled in his belt, finally withdrawing his dagger which he swiftly plunged into the undead creature before him, stabbing deep into the thing's chest, near the gash Delgath had sliced into it, though no pain registered in it's dead, blank eyes.
Taken aback by the corpses rising, the same ones he prayed and cared for only moments ago, Krusk is scared by the sudden danger of which he is not used to, but more importantly sees this as an affront to both life and his gestures and intentions only moments earlier. He begins channeling his power and raises his holy symbol, a medallion emblazoned with Bahamut's profile, high above his head. It lights up and glows in a bright yellow-white aura as he begins chanting the prayer again, that only moments earlier was meant to help shepherd these poor souls into the afterlife, channeling the divinity of The Platinum Dragon.
The light from the medallion of Bahamut fills the room for a moment, causing the first emotion to be seen on any of the faces of the undead... Fear.
The animated corpses back away from the paladin, their backs pressed into the unyielding stone walls as gnarled hands rise up to shield their eyes from the light as they turn away. The shambling thing to Krusk's right even turns and runs, its undead legs finding a new swiftness as it flees from the holy light of Bahamut, but not before Krusk brings his greatsword down on the thing's shoulder, chopping deep into it's ribs, sending it staggering. The unusual gait imparted by Krusk's blow causes the zombie to stumble past Eon's blade, though Arturs' dagger strikes true, stabbing into partially desiccated flesh, allowing more putrid gore to spill forth from the wound.
All of the undead fled or backed away from the holy light, except for the one in the corner farther's from the paladin, shielded partially by the number of upright bodies between them. The zombie actually ran closer to Krusk, but instead of making its way to him, it strangely moved toward Arturs instead!
Dread wasn't about to give the Paladin any more credit than was due. Seeing his opportunity, Dread grabs his zombie by the arm, flailing it around and away from Arturs. Smashing it with the pommel of his sword is staggered slightly. The two right hooks the followed that staggered it greatly. With a might kick to the chest he slammed it against the wall. Still it let out a guttural moan and shambled forward, straight into Dread's downward stroke.
He glared at Arturs. "Stay out of the way, boy!" He nudged his head in the direction Arturs should run, now that he was trying to hold them off.
The zombie continued toward Arturs though, utterly ignoring Dread and the wounds he inflicted and instead lunged for the apprentice wizard. Arturs' eyes went wide and he twisted to the side, narrowly causing the creature to miss.
"Anywhere I go there's more of them!" Arturs cursed, holding his dagger out in front of him as he kept his back to the wall with the inner door to his right.